For Them
by Gillyweed21
Summary: In which we ponder on the dying thoughts of the Golden Trio.


Title: For Them

Author: Gillyweed21

Type: One-Shot

Status: Complete

**WARNINGS: DARK HUMOR/CONTENT. MENTIONS OF RAPE AND TORTURE. READ AT OWN RISK.**

* * *

For Ron, it was disease.

Life was good, great even, after the war. Sure, Fred his ever joyful brother, hadn't pulled through, but it was all a simple matter of whether or not Ron was happy that nearly everyone else had. And boy, he was.

He had found himself a girlfriend, one pretty miss by the name of Luna Lovegood, and loved her more then oxygen it's self. And he really loved oxygen. His partners in crime, Harry and Hermione, had ended up okay. Still in denial, but okay nevertheless.

It was a miracle, really, but no one was about to look the gift horse in the mouth.

Then one day he had a terrible stomach pain. Ron had brushed it off as a mundane flu, but as the days went by, the pains got worse. One terrible body spasm later, and Luna had him convinced he needed to go to St. Mungo's.

Dragon Pox. Fatal and fast-working, Ron had about a week to live. Ron had, unsurprisingly, wanted to spend his last week living out boyish fantasies and exploring the world, but he was depressingly bedridden.

The last few days were painful. He didn't want to go, not at only a mere 22 years of age. But at least he got to say his goodbyes.

With an air of finality, Ronald Billius Weasley took his last breath peering into the tearful faces of his two best friends.

* * *

For Hermione, it was murder.

After Ron, she fell into a depressive state, not eating or sleeping, just barely getting along. She was driven mad with guilt and remorse, grieving in mute silence.

But she had found solace in Harry Potter. He had been kind and loving and she had found herself leaning onto him heavily for support.

She almost found it ironic. Ron once told her that he would like nothing more then to see her and Harry make each other happy. She had called him crazy, getting spiteful and defensive in a heartbeat. But now that he was... dead, she had finally come to her senses.

At first she didn't love him. She sought comfort and love, and Harry had been willing. He was constant, providing human contact and affection endlessly and she found herself being wrapped up in it. Wrapped up in him. Now there was no doubt in her mind that she would love him until the end of time.

Until the unthinkable happened.

Her kidnap was planned and calculated, rogue Death Eaters desperate for a way to get to Harry.

She was taken from her bed in an act if revenge. Raped and tortured as an act of revenge. Her mind was broken, body violated all in an attempt at destroying one innocent boy's life.

She was bait.

She faintly recognized Harry as he burst into the dungeon, vivid green eyed settling on her mangled form. He had cried out, an inhuman keening noise escaping his mouth as he dropped

his knees in grief.

Hermione Jean Granger had taken her last shuddering breath in his arms, greeting death with open arms.

* * *

For Harry, it was suicide.

Hermione was the last straw. He loved her with all his being, she was his family, and now she was gone. Her body eight feet under ground where he would never gaze into those chocolate brown eyes again.

He had nightmares. Terrifying dreams filled with the bodies of Ron and Hermione slowly decaying in coffins riddled with intricate designs. With the persuading of the voices floating around, Harry slowly spiraled into insanity, throwing himself into dangerous situations in the hopes he would join his loved ones once more.

Just one more drink. That's what he always told himself. Just one more drink and then he'll go home. But he never went home. Almost nightly he engaged in one night stands, getting high off the temporary euphoria the woman brought him. He had originally hoped that it would take his mind off Hermione, but by the time he found out it only made it worse, he was addicted.

But addiction was a tricky thing. His life was in tatters. He snapped at anyone that tried to speak to him, and was found most often with a random nameless girl and a pint of vodka. And one night he had enough.

It was between the pills and the rope. It was a no brainer, considering that by the time he had really thought about it, he had unconsciously tied a perfect noose. He attached it to his ceiling fan, tightening the measly rope around his long neck. With one last thought of Hermione and Ron, Harry James Potter kicked over the chair.

The Savior of the Wizarding World was found days later, body limp and spinning eerily around in circles, a taunting smile forever plastered on his face.

* * *

For them, it was a sense of being together once again.


End file.
